Vackra Varelser
by TheBlondeOne88
Summary: Elda inte för kråkorna - Swedish proverb. Translation: Don't light a fire for the crows. Asta's not sure how to adjust to her new life. It's too simple, too easy, and people are just too nice. Then some old acquaintances resurface, and with a price on her head and a newfound sense of purpose, she decides this time she won't run - she'll stand and fight.
1. A Fresh Start

I was woken up by birds chirping outside my window. That may sound peaceful, but it's really not when you consider that those same birds had woken me up every morning that summer at the break of dawn. On the plus side, I could now say from experience that the sunrises here in England were quite beautiful.

I rolled over and pushed myself up onto my elbows. Weak sunlight seeped through the curtains and cast a dim light on the trunk that sat open by the door to my room. My school robes were folded neatly inside next to books and quills and parchment. I groaned and flopped back onto the bed, squeezing my eyes shut. I was dreading the train ride. I was dreading the school year. Nothing about the day ahead of me seemed appealing.

I lay there in bed for almost an hour, mentally prepping myself for the day. I heard my mother wake up and begin wandering around the house, cooking breakfast, checking the mail, getting dressed. After a deep breath, I kicked off the blankets and climbed out of bed.

"Tja mamma," I said as I stepped into the kitchen. "What's breakfast?"

"Pancakes," she said.

I smiled, dropping into a chair at the table. "Perfekt."

"Är du redo att lämna skolan?"*

I sighed. "Ja mamma."

I thought about the mostly packed trunk in my room. "I'm _mostly_ ready to leave."

"Go," Mamma said, waving her spatula at me. "Pack."

I sighed again, sliding out of my chair and climbing back up the stairs. Up in my room, I started grabbing the things I hadn't packed yet. Books, makeup, hairbrush. I quickly dressed myself in Muggle clothing for the trip to the train station before going back downstairs for breakfast.

Mamma handed me a plate of pancakes. "You'll need to take a car to the station. I can't take you today."

"Is this the new job?" I asked.

"Ja," she said, sliding into the chair next to mine.

"Did you already call a taxi for me?"

"Ja, Asta," she said, shooting me a look.

"Bara kollar," I said, waving my fork.**

We ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally Mamma set her fork down and delicately patted her lips with a napkin.

"You are _not_ to get in trouble this year," she said.

"Yes mamma."

"No fighting."

"Yes mamma."

"Keep your wand to yourself."

"Mamma-"

"Asta." She gave me a warning look.

"Yes mamma."

"We have a fresh start here. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy. And I don't want to have to move again."

I nodded. "Ja mamma."

There was a knock at the door. "That will be the taxi driver. Go get your things."

I went up the stairs again, grabbed my trunk and a fur coat to pull over my blouse and stuffed my wand in my pocket. When I finally made my way down stairs with the much too heavy trunk, I saw the taxi driver staring at my mother in a sort of silent awe. I smirked. Muggles always stared.

"Jag älskar dig Asta," my mother said, kissing me on the cheek. "Jag saknar dig."

"Jag älskar dig mamma," I replied, kissing her back.***

I turned to the taxi driver and looked from him to my trunk pointedly. He coughed, flustered, and started dragging my trunk out to his car.

"Hej då mamma," I said giving her a final hug.****

I shut the door behind me and the driver opened my door. The inside of his taxi smelled a bit off so I held my breath as I slid inside.

"Was that your sister?" the driver asked as we started to drive off.

"No." I stared out the window.

"Oh. You look a lot alike."

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

"Sweden."

"I heard Swedish girls were very beautiful," he said, smiling at me in the mirror. "I heard correctly didn't I?"

"Just drive," I said.

"Yes ma'am," he said meekly, hunkering down in his seat.

The drive to the train station was just long enough to for the smell of the taxi to work its way into the fur of my coat. I tucked my nose into my collar and tried not to inhale. The driver stopped right in front of the doors to let me out, opening my door for me and helping me with my trunk. I smiled politely at him and handed him the money. He took it wordlessly, not taking his eyes away from my face. I stepped away without another word.

Another man, about twenty years old and probably off to uni, ran over eagerly to help me with my trunk. He loaded it on a trolley and started pushing towards my platform.

"You're really beautiful," he said as we stepped through the doors.

"Thank you," I said graciously.

"Are you going off to school?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Where do you go?" he pressed. "I went to Smeltings."

I hesitated. "Cheltenham."

"Really? That's a really good school. What're you studying?"

I hesitated again, cursing silently. "Maths?"

"That's a great subject," the man said eagerly. "Really useful. Do you know where you want to go after? What university?"

"This is my platform," I said quickly.

"Alright," he said. He didn't move.

I arched my eyebrows at him.

"Do you think I could get your number?" he asked breathlessly.

I frowned. "My number?"

"Your phone number," he clarified. "So maybe we can talk during term time?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." I smiled widely at him like I was giving him a gift instead of trying to avoid him.

He nodded, too mesmerised by my smile to be upset. "Okay, sure."

He still didn't move.

"You can go now," I said.

"Right, right," he said, nodding. "Sure."

I nodded back at him, slightly amused. He finally wandered off, shooting looks over his shoulder as he went. I stifled a smile as he walked into a group of tourists before glancing away from him and looking around the platform.

It was packed with Muggles, of course. Most of them staring at me. I tightened my grip on my trolley. I'd been told in a letter how to get onto the platform, so I wasn't worried by the fact that I couldn't see the sign for Platform 9 ¾, I was worried about how I could get onto the platform without anyone noticing. There were enough people staring that I knew it could cause a bit of trouble if I just ran headfirst into a wall.

I'd learned over the years that people would pay less attention to me if I wasn't alone, unless of course the person I was with was my mother. So I looked around for a wizarding family I could use.

Eventually, the perfect family appeared: three people, the son about twelve or thirteen years old with an owl cage on top of his trolley and a broomstick strapped to side. Subtle. I felt eyes slide off me as I approached them.

"Hi," I said, smiling sweetly at the parents. I thickened my accent a little bit. "Do you think you could help me?"

"Sure," the father said quickly. "What do you need?"

"Well, I'm new at -" I paused to look pointedly at the boy's trolley "- the school this year, and I forget how to get to the platform."

"Oh, well you just run right into that platform divider there, between nine and ten," the mother said, smiling at me.

"Can you show me?" I asked with another smile.

"Of course," the father said.

"Darling, why don't you go ahead with Alfie?" the mother interrupted him.

I gave her a knowing look. The father reluctantly took his son's hand and ran on ahead, disappearing through the barrier. I smiled at the mother and she and I started walking. I was still all too conscious of a few people still staring. I hoped that the thing about Muggles rationalizing magic would work even if I disappeared through the wall.

I reflexively closed my eyes as we passed through the bricks, and blinked a few times in the other side, my eyes adjusting to the sheer amount of scarlet and steam that filled the platform.

"Thank you," I told the family. "You we such a help."

"Of course dear," the mother said kindly, and the the of them set off towards the train.

I stared after them feeling slightly unsettled. I wasn't used to people being quite so nice and expecting nothing in return. There had to be a catch, I thought. There just had to be.

I moved through the crowds with ease. People moved out of the way for me quickly, with a tad less staring than that Muggles. I bit my lip as I neared the train, unsure how to board or even use the thing at all. I'd never had to use one before.

"Do you need help? Loading your trunk?" I heard a voice ask behind me.

I turned to see a young boy, maybe fifteen years old, with a shiny badge attached to his lapel.

"I'd love some help," I told him. "Do you mind?"

"No! No not at all. I'm a prefect, see, and it's my job to help people. Are you new? It's just, I haven't seen you around before, and I'm sure I'd remember seeing you before," he said, rambling nervously. "And, erm, we don't have a lot of transfers really. People generally come in as first years or not at all. But you're er… different."

I raised my eyebrows, amused by his awkwardness. "I'm new, yes."

"Wow, really? Where are you from?" he asked as he shoved my trunk into the overhead. "Did you go to a different wizarding school? What was it like?"

"Durmstrang," I said. "It was cold."

"Wow, really? Did you hear about -"

I cut him off. "I'd like a little quiet please. If you don't mind?"

"No! No I don't mind at all. I should probably go help done other people you know. Lots to do! I'm Jack, by the way. I'm a fifth year. Hufflepuff. If you ever need me. For anything. Really, I can help with _any_ thing you need, just say the word."

"Thank you Jack," I said, interrupting him. If I didn't we would've been there all day. "You're very kind."

"Yes, well, I'll just erm, go. Now. See ya," he stammered, backing out the compartment door.

He shut it behind him and wandered off, leaving me in peaceful silence. I smiled a little, happy to be alone, and looked out of the window to so the happy little families standing on the platform. Everyone was smiling and laughing for the most part. A few of the younger children I could see were more upset, clinging to their parents and bring.

As the clock's hands moved closer to eleven, more and more people boarded the train. They stated at me through the window on the door of the compartment they filtered past. I tucked my nose back into the collar of my coat and wrapped my arms around myself. One red-haired girl actually stopped in front of my compartment and stared openly. I narrowed my eyes slightly, glaring at her.

She pulled open the compartment door. "Sorry to stare, but - are you a veela?"

I was forced to remove my nose from my collar to answer her. "Only in part."

"How much? Like one-quarter?"

"Yes," I said.

She dropped into the seat across from me. "It's just, I haven't met a veela I'm not related to."

"You're veela?" I said, blinking at her.

"Not me, no. Related by marriage. Where are you from?"

"Sweden."

"Ooh, did you go to Durmstrang?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes."

"That is so _interesting_ ,"she said, leaning forward in her seat. "What's it like there?"

"Cold." I said shortly.

"Well _obviously_ , but what's the school like?"

"Cold," I said again. The conversation was beginning to feel a bit too friendly.

"Well okay, but how was it different to Hogwarts?" she pressed.

"I don't know. I haven't been to Hogwarts yet," I said, frustrated.

"Right, of course. Well you'll love it. It's a beautiful castle, and there's all these beautiful paintings on the walls, and suits of armour, and our food is just _delicious_."

"Of course."

"I'm Rose by the way,"she said, holding out her hand for me to shake.

I looked from her face to her hand and shook it gingerly. "Asta."

"That's a pretty name," she said. "Is it swedish?"

I squinted at her. "No, it's swahili."

She squinted back at me. "Was that sarcasm?"

"What did it sound like?"

She was saved from answering by two boys bursting into the compartment. I flinched, my grip on my wand tightening inside my pocket.

"Hello," one of the boys said breathlessly. "I'm Fred."

"Hello," I replied.

"Yeah, hi Freddy," Rose said from behind him.

"Hey Rosie." He didn't bother turning to look at her. "Who's your friend?"

"Who's yours?" she replied archly.

"You remember Finn."

"Hi," said Finn, not looking at her either.

"Hey Finn," Rose said, looking amused.

"So," Freddy said, sliding into the seat next to me. "What's your name?"

"Asta," I said.

"That's a beautiful name," Finn said. His eyes didn't move away from my face.

"Thank you," I said, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Where are you from Asta?" Freddy asked.

"Sweden."

"Sweden? That's… interesting. How are things over there? After the, well, everything."

"I wouldn't know," I said. "I left."

"Before or after? The - thing?" Finn said.

I looked away, staring out of the window.

"Fred, she obviously doesn't want to talk about the massacre. Leave it," Rose snapped.

"Sure, yeah, fine," Freddy said. "Sorry."

I didn't reply, choosing instead to tuck my nose back into the collar of my coat. After a few minutes, Rose shooed the boys out of the room and slammed the compartment door behind them.

"Sorry about them," she said. "They're tactless."

"They're boys," I said, my voice muffled by the fur. "They're always like that."

"Huh. All of them?" she asked curiously.

"At least at first."

"That's annoying."

"I'm used to it."

"I suppose you would be."

I sat back in my seat and pulled my hand out of my pocket. After another few minutes, the train began to move. I tucked up my legs underneath me and leaned against the wall. For a few hours after that, we sat in silence. Rose read her school books and I watched the scenery shoot past. Rose apparently had a large family, and people kept dropping in. She invariably kicked them back out, seeming to prefer quiet. One of the younger girls whispered to me that Rose hardly ever sat with anyone on the train, and that I should feel lucky.

The ride was much too long. If they couldn't even manage some better kind of transportation, reliable was their reputation as the best wizarding school in Europe?

It was nighttime when we finally pulled into the station at the other end. Rose and I tugged our trunks out of the overhead compartment and I followed her off the train. There was light rain misting down, making everything damp and a little gross. I wrinkled my nose and tried not to step in any puddles.

"Are you Miss Asta Eld?" asked a middle-aged professor, walking towards me.

I looked up at him. "Yes."

"Please, come with me," he said.

He gestured to a carriage and I climbed in.

"Are those thestrals?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, they pull the carriages," the professor said. "You can see them?"

I felt my cheeks redden, and I sank back into my seat.

"I'm Professor Longbottom," he said as the carriage set off at a brisk pace. "We're going to the Headmistress's office. You'll be sorted into your house there, and we need to sort out a few things with your schedule and transcript as well, so we'll do that now."

I nodded.

"This might be a big transition for you, so just know that you can always talk to your head of House if you need to; for any help at all. Academic, social, or with anything about your future career prospects."

"House?" I said, confused.

"Yes, you'll be sorted into one of four Houses. That will determine where your common room is, who is in your dorm, and who you take classes with. That sort of thing. Do you play Quidditch?"

I wrinkled my nose again. "No."

"That's a shame, we have a great inter-House Quidditch system. It really helps students bond with their Housemates."

I raised my eyebrows and nodded, pretending to be interested. "I see."

"I think you'll enjoy this year, Miss Eld. It is your seventh year, right?"

"Yes."

"That's what I thought."

The carriage wobbled and I gripped my seat tightly, pursing my lips in distaste.

"You'll get your first look at the school in a moment here, around the corner."

I looked out, watching the road ahead. Suddenly, a gigantic castle appeared at the top of the hill. My mouth went slack. It was enormous, and nearly every window was lit up with a warm orange light. It glowed.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Professor Longbottom said, smiling at me.

"Yes," I admitted. "It is."

We bounced up the hill. I'd pulled my fur coat over my Hogwarts robes, and I tucked my nose back down, trying not to get sick. The carriage finally pulled to a stop in front a pair of massive doors. Professor Longbottom helped me out of the carriage.

"Leave your trunk, the house-elves will get it."

"You have house-elves here?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, yes. We do pay them a salary, though."

I nodded. The professor led me up a staircase, and then another, and another and another. We set off down a hall and stopped in front of a gargoyle.

"Padfoot," Professor Longbottom said to the gargoyle.

It nodded and jumped aside, revealing a spiral staircase. I blinked.

"After you," the professor said graciously.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

I stepped onto the staircase and it started to move. I had to stop myself from squealing. The staircase stopped at a door. I picked up the knocker and then dropped it back down.

"Come in," called a voice on the other side of the door.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was massive, with bookshelves reaching up to the ceiling, and funny little devices scattered around the room on elegantly crafted tables. Portraits of previous headmasters and mistresses frowned down at me. My gaze dropped to the desk in the middle of the room.

A stately older woman sat behind the desk. She looked up at me, and I saw a look of surprise cross her face for just a moment before she regained her composure.

"You must be Miss Eld," she said. "Please, take a seat."

She pointed to the stool in front of her desk. I looked at it.

"It's occupied," I said.

"Yes, put the hat on and sit down."

"Put it - on?"

"Yes, Miss Eld. And don't dawdle. There's a gaggle of first years waiting to do exactly what you're doing now."

I dropped my eyes and picked up the hat, grimacing slightly. I slid onto the seat and put the hat on my head.

 _Hmm_ , a voice whispered. I flinched. _You're not a first year. From Durmstrang aren't you? How...unusual._

I felt my lips twist.

 _And part veela, too,_ the hat continued. _Very unusual. So where to put you? You've got quite a lot of smarts, don't you? You'd fit right in in Ravenclaw. But you're also brave. Very brave. You'd like Gryffindor as well. So where should I put you?"_

 _Does it matter?_ I found myself thinking. _It's only for a year. And I certainly don't care._

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted to the room.

"Very good," the Headmistress said. "My old House, you know."

I smiled weakly at her. "Of course."

"Now, before Professor Longbottom takes you down to the feast, there are a few things we need to sort out with your schedule. Now I understand that Durmstrang does their testing a little differently than we do here."

"Yes, we have assessment tests every year. I believe I did quite well on all of mine."

"Yes, you did very well," the Headmistress continued. "But you took classes that we do not offer here at Hogwarts."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we don't offer a Dueling class, for one. Nor do we teach the Dark Arts. And I don't know what the 'Simple Spellwork' class even is, much less how it compares to 'Complex Spellwork."

"No dueling class?" My frown deepened.

"There's a dueling club. But dueling is mostly taught in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"I'll take that then," I said. "May I assume that Potions is the same here as it is at Durmstrang?"

"Yes, and I see you did quite well in that and in both your Dark Arts class and Dueling class, so those two shouldn't be a problem. Now, Simple Spellwork and Complex Spellwork, what are those?"

"Simple Spellwork just means non-transfiguring spellwork, although some of the charms and jinxes are more complex it's still not taken seriously there."

"That sounds like Charms. Do you want to continue with that?"

"Yes."

"And Complex Spellwork, is that Transfiguration?"

"Yes."

"And would you like to continue with that?"

"Yes."

"Alright, so that leaves us with the Studie av Magiska Växter -

"Study of magical plants," I told her.

"So Herbology then."

"If you say so."

"And Arithmancy."

"I'd like to continue with that as well."

"That's doable. So that's your schedule figured out then."

I started to stand up.

"Wait," the Headmistress said quickly. "That wasn't all I wanted to discuss with you."

I sat back down.

"There are a few notes on your behaviour here."

I stifled a groan. "Professor, I moved here for a fresh start. Sweden has been left behind. There will be no problems."

"I should hope not. At Hogwarts we don't stand for the sorts of things you seem to have gotten away with in the past."

I shrugged. "You'd be surprised what you can overlook when it becomes necessary Professor. But I promised you there will be no problems, and I will hold to that."

"Good," the Headmistress said with finality. "Now go enjoy the feast."

Translations:

*" _Are you ready to go to school?"_

**" _Just checking," I said, waving my fork._

***" _I love you Asta," my mother said, kissing me on the cheek. "I miss you."_

" _I miss you mamma," I replied, kissing her back._

****" _Goodbye mamma," I said giving her a final hug._


	2. The Dueling Class

I exited the Headmistress's office the way I'd come in, eyeing the gargoyle suspiciously as I passed it. The walk down to the Hall felt longer than the walk up.

"Your tie," Professor Longbottom said, handing me a red-and-gold scrap of fabric. "It's part of your uniform. Those are your House colors."

I sighed, already hating the uniform. "I have to wear this everyday?"

"Well, yes. It is a uniform."

I sighed. We reached the ground floor, and Professor Longbottom split off to find the first years. I walked towards the Great Hall with not a little trepidation.

"Where'd you go off to then?" I heard a voice say behind me.

I turned to find Rose walking towards me. "Had to see the Headmistress, didn't I? I got - what do you call it? Sorted?"

"Sorted, yeah. What House are you in now?"

"The red-and-gold one," I told her, holding up the tie.

"Gryffindor?" Rose pulled open the doors for the Great Hall, glaring at a handful of boys who scrambled to open them for us. "I've got some cousins there, you met them. I'm in Ravenclaw."

"All your cousins?" I asked. I could feel my forehead wrinkling with worry.

"Well, most of them. My brother's in Hufflepuff and Lucy's in Ravenclaw with me. But other than that, yeah."

I tried not to groan.

"You sit over there, that's the Gryffindor table," Rose said, pointing to the table on the far left.

I made my way over to the table she indicated, crowds separating to let me through. The benches were hard and uncomfortable, and there was no food for the so-called feast. I wrinkled my nose in distaste, and when I noticed all the people staring, I tucked my nose back into the collar of my coat. People stared less the more I covered up.

People shuffled around, no one daring to sit next to me. It took about ten minutes for someone to slide into the seat across from me. It was a girl, about seventeen, with short brown hair hanging around her shoulders, and an upturned pixie nose. She was cute, in an odd sort of way. I could see by the way her shoulders were tensed that her hands were clenched together under the table.

"You're new, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes."

"What year are you?" she asked.

I frowned. "We do things differently at Durmstrang. I don't know. It's my last year."

"Your seventh then. It's my seventh year too, we'll be in the same dorm!" She smiled perkily at me.

"Great," I said flatly.

"My name's Leah," she said, fluttering about her hand awkwardly as though not sure if she should offer to shake.

"Asta," I replied.

"So I heard you're from Sweden?"

I frowned again. "How did you hear that already?"

"Nothing faster than the Hogwarts gossip mill!" she said with an attempt at being cheery.

"What else have you heard?" I asked curiously.

She hesitated. "Well, erm, it's not all good. And most of it's probably not true."

"I don't care," I said.

"Well, er, I heard that you're from Belarus, that you went to Durmstrang and then you had to leave because you murdered six men in cold blood."

"I'm from Sweden."

"That's the part of that story you have a problem with?" Leah asked, eyebrows lifting. "Is that the only part of the story you have a problem with?"

"Well, if I told you I was a murderer, you wouldn't believe me because what sort of person admits to being a murderer? And if I denied it you still wouldn't believe me because, well, what sort of person admits to being a murderer?"

"True," Leah said, cocking her head to the side. "I guess there's no real win for you there, is there?"

I shrugged. "I'll just let it die. It's not important."

"That's a healthy outlook I suppose," Leah said thoughtfully. "What classes are you taking?"

"Arithmancy," I said, my forehead creasing. "Potions. Dark Arts, Transfiguration. I forget what else; you have different names for things here."

"We'll have Potions and Arithmancy together," Leah told me.

I nodded. The doors swung open and the "gaggle" of first years the headmistress had mentioned stumbled through them, staring at everything with wide eyes. They filed down the centre aisle to front of the Hall, where the grubby little hat sat on it's stool. Everyone in the Hall stared, waiting expectantly. The hat slowly moved, opening at a rip just above the brim. It began to sing.

It rambled on about the four Houses and the Founders, the merits of each House and something about not yielding to the Darkness. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. It was the only thing about this school that was dirty and unkempt. At Durmstrang, _nothing_ was allowed to become that disgusting.

When the first years had all settled in their seats, the Headmistress stood to give a welcome speech. I couldn't pay attention to what she was saying however, because there was a cluster of small boys staring at me on my left, with eyes wide and jaws hanging open, and another cluster of older boys on my left with lust-filled gazes. The whole thing made me very uncomfortable. People in Sweden and especially at Durmstrang were a little more used to veelas, and I hadn't felt this unsettled in quite a while.

Eventually, finally, the Headmistress waved her hand and food appeared on the tables. I couldn't help but let out a little gasp as the food filled the previously empty bowls and platters. The boys, distracted by the food, looked away from me and at their own plates. I smiled just a bit and pulled my coat away from my face to eat, satisfied that people weren't staring anymore.

The food itself was some of the best I had ever tasted. It was rich and flavorful, and melted in my mouth. At Durmstrang, the food had been mediocre on the best days, and most days it was barely edible. I closed my eyes with ecstasy at the treacle tart.

"Come on," Leah said when the plates were cleared. "I'll show you to the Common Room."

I stood, following her out of the Hall and up several flights of stairs. One of the staircases moved as we stepped onto it and I squealed. Leah giggled.

"They do this sometimes," she explained. "Most of them anyway. There's a few other things you should learn about this castle - like the doors you've gotta tickle or sweet-talk. And the ghosts. Most of them are alright. Steer clear of the Bloody Baron though, he's a little scary."

I nodded, a little freaked out.

"Here we are," Leah said with a contented sigh. She stopped in front of a portrait of a heavy woman in a pink dress. "Pukwudgie."

I looked at her, still confused. Then the portrait swung open and she dragged me through the hole in the wall behind her and into a cozy, round room. There was a crackling, burning fire at one end of the room and cushy red chairs scattered around little tables. I could understand Leah's little sigh now. It was very homey.

"The girl's dorms are up here," said Leah, leading me up a final staircase.

The dorm was also round, with four-poster beds covered in thick duvets. Our trunks were at the end of the beds. It was _warm_. I sat on the bed that appeared to be mine. It was soft as a marshmallow.

I groaned with satisfaction, laying back on the bed. I heard Leah's giggle again.

"Nice isn't it?" she said, dropping onto her own bed. "I love the dorm."

"It's _wonderful_."

She laughed some more. "There's two other girls in here. Ava and Siobhan."

"Mmm."

"They're alright," Leah continued. "I never really got on with them real well. They're just a bit - what's the word? Cliquey, maybe?"

"Snobbig," I murmured. "Jag inte gillar sådana typer."*

"What?" Leah said, confused.

"Nothing," I said.

I was asleep in minutes.

Morning came too soon. There were no birds outside my window, but there were a few loud seventeen year old girls getting ready for their first day of classes. I rolled over and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Leah was still snoring. I quickly dressed, combed my hair and gathered together my school bag with its crisp parchment, new quills and full ink pots.

I stood in the center of the room, vaguely concerned. I wasn't sure how to get back down to the Great Hall. After a moment of deliberation, I stepped over a small pile of saddle shoes to Leah's bed and poked her awake.

"Leah," I whispered. "Wake up."

She rolled over groggily. "What's the time?"

"Half past eight."

"Oh," she said, sitting up. "Oh dear. Give me just a moment. Are Ava and Siobhan up?"

As if on cue, the two other girls emerged from the bathroom. I still wasn't sure which was which, but one of the girls was a ginger, tiny and delicate-looking, and the other was taller, broader, with dark hair that flowed to her waist.

"Morning," the ginger said, almost warily, in a heavy Irish accent. "See you at brekky, yeah?"

I nodded, and the two of them traipsed out of the room.

"We'll get our schedules this today," Leah said with a yawn. She hopped about on one foot, tugging a on a shoe.

"Of course," I said absently.

I looked out the window. The previous night I hadn't been able to see too far, but in the weak morning light I could see out to the Quidditch pitch and a fog-coated forest on the edge of the grounds. It was stunningly beautiful. When I left Sweden I didn't think I'd see another sunrise as beautiful as the sunrises at Durmstrang. There, the mountains had formed a sort of a frame for the sun, and the snow had always seemed to glow. This was almost as gorgeous.

"Ready," Leah exclaimed. She dragged a mascara wand through her eyelashes one last time. "Now I'm ready."

I nodded and we left the dorm. The castle was warm for an early morning, and my fingers weren't even numb when we reached the Hall.

"Miss Eld," Professor Longbottom said, approaching me as we neared the Gryffindor table. "And Miss Bonneville. I have your schedules here."

He handed us a few pieces of parchment.

"You're taking six NEWTs?" Leah asked incredulously. "I'm only taking four!"

"How do you only have four classes?" I said with a frown. "Five is the minimum."

"Three's the minimum here, actually," she said, dropping into her seat. "And I'm not really all that academically-inclined."

"Arithmancy isn't typically for the non-academics," I replied.

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm only taking for my father. He thinks Arithmancy is the language of the universe or something. I'm the worst in the class."

I shrugged and took a few pancakes onto my plate, unsure what to say. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"What've you got first then?" Leah asked.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," I replied.

"Oof. Have fun there. That James Potter there -" she indicated a tall, dark haired boy with her fork. "- he's always showing off. Thinks that just because his dad killed Voldemort he gets a free pass in this stuff. And he does sometimes. No one wants to piss of _Harry Potter_."

I rolled my eyes. "At Durmstrang he'd be hexed behind the kitchens until he learned to keep his mouth shut. Not even the Professors would protect someone like that."

Leah snorted. "Really? That might be taking things a bit far. He's not a bad bloke, really. Just a bit annoying."

I shrugged. "Things are different there."

"Were you ever hexed behind the kitchens then?"

"A couple times. Only in my first few years though."

"Merlin's saggy pants that's awful."

I chewed on my pancake, disappointed by its flavour. "Not really."

"You're an odd one Asta Eld." Leah stood, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "I've got to get up to the North Tower, so I'd better head off. The Defense classroom is on the third floor corridor, second door on the left. Next to the bust of Elfric the Eager."

"Who?"

"Follow Potter if you get lost. Or ask one of the ghosts, they're usually alright."

Leah ran off. I looked after her, feeling a little lost. In that moment I realized I quite liked her. It was a new feeling for me. But she was warm and welcoming, and didn't mind showing me around, which was nice. Everything here was so . . . nice. As unsettling as the niceness was, it was also sort of pleasant, and the sort of unsettling that's easier to get used to.

However, the Greeks always said "there's no such thing as free lunch." This pleasantness had to come at a cost. I just hadn't found it yet.

I studied James Potter from the corner of my eye. He was boisterous, and surrounded by equally energetic friends, including Freddy Weasley. The group shot glances over at me, trying to play it cool, but hoping to grab my attention. I rolled my eyes. For the children of public figures and politicians, they weren't subtle at all. But of course, out of all the people here, they would be the most useful. So when Potter and Weasley looked over again, I gave them a small, sexy smile and stood up, tossing my hair as I scooped up my schoolbag. My hips swayed as I left the Hall.

Out in the corridor, I paused. Third floor, I thought, must be up a few flights, mustn't it? I headed towards the stairs.

 _Did the British call this the first floor or the second?_ I thought with a pause as I reached the top of the first flight.

I started up the second flight. They moved as I climbed and I chewed on my tongue with worry. I started on the third flight cautiously, unsure if this was the right way. Halfway up, my foot slipped and I fell into the stairs, getting stuck up to my knee. I let out a small cry.

"Need help there?" I heard an eager voice ask. I looked up to see Jack-the-prefect standing over me.

I gave him a smile. "I'd love some help, thank you."

He took my hands and tugged. My foot popped free. I could feel his hands shaking as he held onto me just a moment too long. I suppressed a rather mean-spirited laugh.

"Do you mind telling me where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom is?" I asked him sweetly.

He smiled up at me. "It's just down this corridor, I'll take you there."

"Thank you."

"I'll carry your bag," said a little voice.

I turned to see a tiny boy holding out his hands eagerly. I figured it would be cruel to turn him down, so I smiled and handed it to him.

"Thank you," I said again.

He turned crimson.

The two boys led me to class. A handful of the other students hung around the second door on the left, watching me approach. I looked them dead in the eye, unwavering and unafraid. Eventually they all looked away, embarrassed. I smirked.

"Thank you both," I told the boys.

The nodded and bounced on their toes a bit, unwilling to leave. I arched my eyebrows.

"Do you not have class?"

They scattered, embarrassed.

"Good morning class," came a masculine voice.

A dark-skinned man I assumed to be the Professor approached us.

"You must be Miss Eld," he said to me. "I heard I had a new student."

"Yes," I said.

"Well then, welcome to Hogwarts." He smiled at me.

I pressed my lips together in semblance of a polite smile. The Professor unlocked the room and held open the door. We all filed in, and settled into the desks. I sat at a very neutral table in the middle of the room.

"Hope you all had a nice holiday," the Professor said. He moved to the front of the room, looking out on all of us. "But it's your NEWT year, and holidays are over. We'll be starting immediately. I want to do a quick assessment of your dueling prowess before we move into the curriculum proper, so let's all partner up, and wands out!"

I looked at the scrawny boy next to me. He had a cruel glint in his eye and a green-and-silver tie. He smiled at me.

"Partners?" he offered.

I shrugged my consent and we stood. The tables and chairs moved to the edges of the room with a flick of the professor's wand. We faced each other, ten steps apart.

"Bow," the professor said. We bowed. "And begin."

I leveled the tip of my wand at the boy's chest. He did the same, and with a slash, sent a curse towards me. I threw up a shield, and the curse dissolved into it. He shot another, and I could see from the weak light it wasn't worth my energy so I side-stepped and quickly lifted him into the air.

He held tight to his wand but kicked his legs. I smirked. I let him undo the jinx himself and watched him crash to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and just before he regained his balance I hit him again.

He gasped for air, dropping his wand to bring his hands to his throat, scratching at the hand that wasn't there. I pressed forward, his face turning purple. He dropped to his knees.

"MISS ELD!"

I whipped around, releasing the spell.

"What do you think you are doing?" the professor loomed over me, furious.

"What do you mean?"

"He dropped his wand. You had already won. Why did you keep going?"

"Because he was still standing."

"I don't know how things are done at Durmstrang, but that is unacceptable here."

"When do you stop then? How do you know who's won?"

"When you're opponent drops his wand. If you must, use a Stunner, but we do _not_ kill."

"He wouldn't have died," I insisted. "I would've stopped before he died."

The professor shook his head. "When do duels end at Durmstrang?"

"When someone is in the infirmary."

"I see. Well, I won't take any points from you this time, as this incident -" he waved at the boy still gasping on the floor. "- can be chalked up to simple ignorance. But if I catch you harming another student in this way again, you will be in a load of trouble. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Now," the professor said. "Let's get you a new partner; see if we can give you more of a challenge."

I had to suppress yet another giggle. He thought I would be challenged here.

"Mr. Potter?" He waved over the dark haired boy. "You'll duel Miss Eld now."

Potter studied me. "Alright then."

Again, I faced him, bowed, and lifted my wand. He did the same. The class quieted. They were all watching.

I waited for him to make the first move. He didn't. We stood for while, sizing each other up, waiting patiently for any opening. He started to look uncomfortable. I didn't move. We stood for almost two minutes before his eyes shifted briefly from me to the professor, uncertain.

I struck. He flew across the classroom, smacking into the wall. He fired back before even climbing to his feet and I deflected his hex easily. He struck again, before I had time to respond. A stinging hex hit my arm just above my elbow, and I hissed in pain and anger. _He had hit me._

I fought back, slashing my wand through the air. A brilliant burst of light swept through the room and I heard Potter yelp with pain. There was burn on his shoulder.

The volley began. We settled into a rhythm. Cast a spell, deflect a spell. Cast, deflect. Cast, deflect. We moved in an approximation of a circle, sidestepping and pressing forward then back. He was predictable and I studied his patterns. Finally, when he had just begun to grow comfortable with the rhythm, I changed it.

Instead of deflecting the hex he sent at me, I dodged it, and in that split second when he realized what I was doing, I broke four fingers on his wand hand.

He yelled again, dropping his wand. The class remained silent. Finally, the professor spoke up.

"Very good, Miss Eld."

He stepped over to where Potter stood, hunched over, and fixed his fingers. Potter picked his wand up off the floor. I touched my own wand to my arm, clearing up the stinging hex.

"Is there anyone else?" I asked. "This wasn't too difficult."

"No Miss Eld. Mr. Potter was the best in this year."

I looked at the two of them incredulously. "You must be joking. Isn't this class called Defense Against the Dark Arts? And your students can't defend themselves at all! What kind of shit professor are you?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" the professor said angrily. "There are many things we've had to learn, not just dueling. In this class we've dealt with dark creatures and even plants infused with Dark magic. We haven't had the time to dedicate to dueling the way you did at Durmstrang."

"That's ridiculous!" I protested. "You have classes about creatures and plants already, you don't need more of that here! Your students are unprepared for any fight. If another wizard wants to do them harm, they're screwed! You've taught them nothing worth while!"

"Another ten points!" the professor seemed livid. "And there is nothing and no one out there wishing harm on these _students_. Durmstrang has made you paranoid."

"It wasn't Durmstrang that made me paranoid." I could feel a red-hot anger bubbling through my veins. I had to focus on my words, trying to speak English and not revert back to Swedish. "It was _real life_ that made me paranoid. It was watching people _die_ that made me paranoid. It was my mother telling me to watch my back; it was reports of murders and kidnappings in the news; it was Mördaren Manifest that made me paranoid. And if you think your students have nothing to be afraid of, then you are too _stupid_ to be called a professor!"

"This is not Sweden," the professor said. He seemed to have a quiet rage building inside him. "And I'm sorry for whatever it was that you experienced there. But you are safe here, and so are your classmates. Do not insult me again, or it will be a hundred points from Gryffindor."

I pressed my lips together, holding back the angry words that wanted to come out. "Yes sir."

"Good." He looked around at the class, who had been watching our argument with trepidation. "Class dismissed."

We left.

*" _Snobby," I murmured. "I don't like those those types."_


	3. An Apology

The week was long and exhausting. I lost track of how many points I'd lost for Gryffindor. I wasn't really sure exactly what that meant, but I did know that it made the other girls in my dorm irritated with me. Leah was okay, but I could tell she was confused. One of the boys in our year even remarked that I didn't look like a troublemaker, but that I sure acted like one.

By the time Saturday came, I was ready to run. So I did. First thing in the morning I pulled on a jumper and a pair of old trainers and ran past the Great Hall into the Forbidden Forest. I'd been warned about it of course, but I didn't care. There wasn't anything in the forest that could scare me.

When I was sure I couldn't be seen by anyone up at the castle, I removed the Disillusionment Charm I'd cast on myself and breathed in the crisp air. The trees arched overhead. It looked like the forests at home, and I felt a little smile cross my lips, lingering.

The wind wove through the trees and tangled my hair as I walked. I hiked deeper and deeper into the forest. Here and there I saw little creatures move about, hiding behind trees in small groups. After about an hour's hike I reached a clearing. I sat down on the trunk of a tree that looked like it had been ripped out of the ground.

I heard a sound behind me and I turned, pulling my wand out of my pocket. Instead of a person, I saw a thestral. It was young, with wide eyes in its reptilian face. It nosed my leg gently, and I saw I had a tiny cut there, probably from an equally tiny stick.

The thestral's tongue was wet, like a dog's. I watched him for a minute. When he realized there wasn't enough blood to feed him, he looked up at me.

I hadn't ever expected thestrals to be such gentle creatures, but this one seemed almost domesticated. Tentatively, I reached out and touched his nose. He didn't move; I slowly began to pet him.

A twig snapped and I snapped to attention, wand draw, knuckles white. Potter stood between a couple trees, staring at me with shock.

"Vad - what are you doing out here?" I asked.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he replied.

We stared at each other for a moment.

"I asked first," I said.

"Collecting unicorn hair for Hagrid," he replied. "You?"

"Who's Hagrid?" I asked with a frown.

"He's the groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor. What are you doing out here?"

I waved one hand loosely. "Wanted a break."

I turned away from him and back to the thestral, who had begun to back away. I held out one hand, moving slowly so as not to spook him.

"Is there -" Potter paused, confused. "Is there a thestral there?"

I drew back my hand, remembering that not everyone could see them. "Yes."

"Right." He shifted, and another twig snapped.

The thestral, spooked, ran off. I shot Potter an irritated look and slouched back on the tree. I could see he was dirty, and gripping a few strands of fine white hair. I felt my upper lip wrinkle in disgust and I looked away.

"Why do you do that?" he blurted out.

"What are you talking about?"

"You - you're _mean_. You're a bit awful, really."

"What?"

"You're a bitch."

I blinked, shocked.

Potter continued. "I mean, you insult the professors even. You don't respect anyone. And you keep looking at people like they're beneath you and it's like you're laughing at them. Merlin knows Leah's nice and all, but even she has her limits. You're not going to have _any_ friends, or even allies, if you keep carrying on like this!"

He seemed seriously angry. I leaned away from him slightly.

"I mean, what the hell is wrong with you? Really! I want to know!"

He was positively fuming. I dropped my gaze and looked back to where the thestral had disappeared in the trees.

"Fine." He turned away, starting to walk back towards the castle.

"Vänta," I said quietly.*

He didn't stop.

"Wait," I said, a bit louder.

This time he turned, looking a bit trepidatious. "What?"

"I'm sorry," I said. It came out almost a whisper.

His brow creased. "What did you say?"

"I'm sorry!" I almost yelled it. "It was never my intention to be - mean. It's so different here. You're all so nice, and things just aren't _done_ this way at Durmstrang."

"How're things done at Durmstrang?" he asked me. "Besides the fact that you duel until someone almost dies."

I hesitated. "The classes, they're everything. And they're graded on a curve, so only a few people can get good grades, and we wind up competing. Being nice, having friends, it's all a distraction. You _must_ be mean to get ahead. It's the only way."

"So. . ." He looked uncomfortable. "You had no friends there?"

I shook my head, embarrassed.

"And you just lived with that?"

I nodded.

"Merlin. That's awful."

I sort of nodded and shrugged.

"Well, erm." He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Just try not to lose any more points yeah? We already have to score over two hundred points in the first Quidditch match just to make up the points you've lost. You're a bit of a menace with that."

My lips twisted. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Okay. Er." It was his turn to hesitate, but finally he turned to walk away once more. "Bye, I guess."

xxx

Maybe an hour after Potter had left me, I walked slowly back up to the castle. I held my composure until I reached my dorm and shut the bathroom door behind me.

I leaned back against the wood of the door, closing my eyes and exhaling as I slid down to the floor. The world seemed to almost swirl around me and I lowered my head between my knees. My hands clenched into fists in my hair and I squeezed, pulling at those _ridiculous_ silver locks. The heels of my hands dropped to my eyes and I _pressed,_ pushing my eyes back into my skull. It hurt, but I did my best to ignore it.

It wasn't until I felt myself choke back a sob that I realized something was wrong. I crawled over to the sink and used it to pull myself to my feet. I could see myself in the mirror. I didn't like what I saw.

I was ruined. It hadn't hit me until that week, but something inside me was broken. I _was_ mean, like Potter had said, but I was more than that: I was cruel. I couldn't blame all of this on Durmstrang. Some of it was just _me_.

I deserved nothing. No. I deserved pain. I deserved to feel what they had felt. What I had made them feel.

I grabbed my wrist and dug my fingernails into my flesh. That pain was good. It felt _right_. I squeezed tighter.

It wasn't enough. I needed more, I needed to bleed. I had to _bleed_ out all the badness, all the wrongness inside of me. That would work. That _had_ to work.

My vision turned dark and fuzzy as I scrambled around the room looking for something sharp pointy scary _anything._ My wand was _there_ , on the floor. That would work; that was perfect.

I grabbed it, my knuckles turning white as my grip on it tightened, I pointed it at my arm -

"Asta?"

It was a gentle voice that finally broke through my thoughts. Leah stood at the door, looking around at the mess of a bathroom and at me, curled on the floor, disheveled and crying, with my wand pointed at my own arm.

"What are you doing?

She seemed genuinely concerned. I lowered my wand.

"Come on," she said. She leaned forward and took my hand, helping me to my feet and guiding me back into the dorm.

I sat on the edge of my bed and she sat next to me gingerly, reaching up to wipe away a few tears and smooth my hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

I nodded, then shrugged, and finally I shook my head. "I don't know."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

I paused. "Jag är grym."**

"What?"

I took a deep breath. "Do you think I'm mean?"

Leah shrugged. "I don't know. I think you're a little cold maybe, unfriendly. But not mean."

"Really?" I asked, sniffling.

I hated how pathetic and weak I sounded.

"Well, I have a cousin who goes to Durmstrang. He changed a _lot_ when he started going there. It's the culture isn't it? I mean, I don't know much, but I know it changes people. And my cousin, he told me once about a veela a few years above him who was really good at everything and then -" She stopped herself.

"What?" I asked.

"He said there was a rumor going around that you joined that radical group, the one that erm. You know."

"Massacred a village?" I finished bitterly.

"Erm. Yeah."

"He's not wrong. I did join. But then I left, so…" I trailed off.

"Well then, I think you've made mistakes. But I also think you're trying to change, and you don't know how to, so, erm, I'm not mad. Just, er, dial it back okay? We're way behind in points and I do _not_ want to lose to Hufflepuff again."

"Ja," I said. "Of course."

Leah smiled and rested her hand on my leg, above my knee. "Things will get better, I promise."

She leaned forward slightly, and I looked up at her to see her eyes drift over my face down to my lips. I leaned back a little.

"Er - Leah?" I said cautiously.

Leah inhaled and looked back into my eyes. "Yes?"

"I'm ah, not gay."

"Oh," Leah leaned back quickly, looking mortified. "I'm so sorry, I - I didn't think; I just - oh Merlin, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine," I said, amused.

"No, I shouldn't have come onto you -"

"Leah."

She took a breath and looked back up at me.

"It's okay."

"I bet this happens to you a lot, doesn't it," she said, a little bitterly.

I shrugged. "I am a veela."

"Don't - don't tell anyone okay?"

I frowned. "Why? Does that sort of thing matter here?"

"A little, yeah. Not as much as it used to. But I don't know if I'm ready for the whole school to know."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Why not?"

"Well, 'cause it's still a little new to me. Erm. I've only really known for a little less than a year so…" she trailed off.

I nodded. "Alright."

Leah breathed out a shallow laugh and flopped back onto the bed. "You know, I used to be with James."

"Potter?" I said, surprised.

"Yup. That's the one."

I frowned. "I thought you hated him."

"I don't. He's okay, just a tad arrogant. But I kinda liked that about him back then."

"You say it like it was so long ago."

"Feels like a lifetime," Leah told me, passing her hands over her face. "We were together for almost a year, and then one day I went down to the Quidditch pitch to find him for something, and I walked into the Ravenclaw locker room instead of of the Gryffindor one by accident, and Mia Sutcliffe, the Ravenclaw captain, was getting out of the shower. And - well. It just kind of hit me."

I nodded, unsure what to say.

"I broke up with James a couple days later," Leah continued. "He was really upset until I told him why. He's the only other person who knows."

We sat in silence for a minute. The rain outside picked up and pattered against the window panes. I watched the water drip down the glass.

"Well," I said, turning my head to look at her. "Things will get better, I promise."

She laughed and I smiled. It was nice to make someone happy for a change.

"Come on," Leah said as she sat up. "Let's go get some lunch."

xxx

"I have something for you to do," he told me.

He leaned forward in his chair, planting his elbows on his intricately carved desk and steepling his fingers together. I watched the skin on his cheek move under his eyepatch, rubbing against the black leather in a way that made him more threatening - and he was already a terrifying and imposing figure.

"I've already done it herrn," I assured him.***

"How can you have?"

I frowned, suddenly confused. "I'm sure I've done it."

"Why so sure?"

My heartbeat quickened. "I don't know. Nevermind."

"Tomorrow night, I need you to be in the town Vaisaluokta. There is a number of people there who need to be … dealt with. Wait for our signal when you get there."

"Our?" I asked him.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a cynical smile. "Mine and Mårdh's."

"Mårdh's?" My nose wrinkled in distaste.

"You don't approve?"

"Of course not. Mårdh is idiotisk."

He laughed outright at that. "Jag håller med. But he is my second."****

"Why?"

"Because you are still too young." He stood and walked around the desk, cupping my chin in his hand and smiling his sinister smile. "In a few years time, you will take his place. It's what you are meant for - what you have been built for. But until that day comes you will answer to Mårdh."

I turned my head. "If I must."

"Now, prinsessa," he said releasing me. "Go do as you're told."

I nodded. "Ja herrn."

I swept out of the room in that dramatic way he had taught me, my silvery hair and dark cloak whirling out in a semicircle behind me. I heard him laugh a maniacal laugh as the door shut behind me, trapping me in darkness.

xxx

I woke with a start. Blood had pooled in my mouth while I slept - I had bit my lip in my sleep. The metallic flavor of the blood mixed with the salt of my sweat on my lips and I gagged. I dragged my hands through my hair and forced myself to take deep breaths as the cool night air dried my skin. I pulled myself out of my bed entirely, and without thinking, stumbled out of the dorms and past the Fat Lady into the corridor.

My limbs felt weak and stiff all at once and I trembled, shaking like a leaf in the wind. The stones of the floor felt cold under my feet but it still didn't freeze me because nothing could now. There was a railing in front of me and I braced my hands on it, holding on for support. I was so high up. A web a staircases wove themselves beneath me, moving even in the stillness of the night.

"You again," came a voice from behind me.

It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. My heart slammed hard in my chest when I realized I didn't have my wand and I turned slowly, expecting the worst.

Instead I saw Potter standing behind me, wand alight.

"It's past curfew," he told me.

I shook my head. "Sorry."

"You need to go back into the common room at least," he told me coolly.

I frowned. "What are you doing out here then?"

"Head Boy," he said, tapping his badge. "Come on."

I nodded and Potter spoke the password to the Fat Lady. He walked me as far as the staircase on the opposite side of the room and gave me a sidelong glance as we parted ways.

Up in the dorm I didn't go back to sleep. Instead I stayed up, sitting by the window until the light of the dawning sun broke through the cloud cover and spread itself across my parchment. I had written out a list of things I needed to do to turn everything around.

 _Don't get in any fights - verbal or physical._

 _Avoid the Slytherins. No need for a worse reputation._

 _Pay compliments. People like compliments._

 _Make friends! Gryffindors first, then Hufflepuffs, then Ravenclaws._

 _APOLOGIZE_

I sat back in satisfaction as I read through my completed list, grateful that at least my pride was malleable. God help the person who chose to insult or patronize me, but I could apologize easily if it was for the greater good.

Slowly the other girls woke up, stirring slowly. They moved from their beds to the bathroom in turns, wrapping themselves in robes and dragging combs through resistant bed-heads. I sat, fully dressed and prepared for the day, until Leah was ready to go down to the Great Hall.

"Come on then," she said with a yawn as she grabbed her school bag. "I'm starving."

I followed her down the stairs, heart thrumming with mild anxiety over what I had to do next. We dropped into seats near the rest of the seventh years, who all eyed me warily as they well might.

"Quit staring losers," Leah said irritably. "Just eat your toast."

"Actually," I interjected, throat dry. "I wanted to say something."

This was met with a few looks of shock and confusion. I swallowed.

"It's been hard, coming here from Durmstrang. And I haven't been very nice to any of you the past couple weeks because of that. And I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Eight people stared at me, mouths agape. I bit back a snappy retort that came to the tip of my tongue and waited for someone to respond.

"Erm, thanks," Potter said, clearly trying to work out what exactly had happened to me overnight. "'S okay."

"Yeah," murmured a few others.

Slowly, people went back to their toast. Leah looked proud.

"I knew there was a reason we were friends," she told me happily.

I smiled back at her, and reached for the hash browns. Step one, _check_.

xxx

As luck would have it, a Slytherin sat down next to me in my very first class that day. And not just any Slytherin. The Slytherin who was going to be quite possibly the worst for my reputation, in more ways than one. Ales Matskevich.

His family was from Belarus, as I was rumored to be, and he had ties to my old… friends. Loose ties, to be sure, but they were there. His cousin was Jakub Smirnova, Ville Mårdh's best friend. An Aryan handsomeness clung to his exterior, the kind the Slytherin girls seemed to go nuts for. He was aloof and confident, darkly imaginative, and just a little too smart.

"Asta Eld, isn't it?" he asked me causally.

"Yes," I replied suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"Oh nothing, I was just thinking -"

"A dangerous pastime," I interrupted.

"I know. But I'm pretty sure I've heard of you. And I'm just trying to place it," he said, tapping his chin.

"How could you have heard of me?" I asked him. "I'm nobody."

"I'm not sure you are."

"Why not?"

"Because. I'm not sure you're aware, but I had a cousin who went to Durmstrang. Jakub Smirnova. You know him?"

I shrugged. "Name sounds familiar."

"He's an interesting person, with interesting friends."

"That's nice."

"I have a sneaking feeling you were one of those friends."

"You're mistaken."

"Associate?"

"I am not your cousin's associate."

"Colleague, then," he pressed.

"Nope."

"Huh," he sat back in his seat. "Are you lying to me?"

I turned and looked him dead in the eye. "I am not your cousin's friend."

We stared for a moment longer.

"Fine," he said turning back to face the front. "But I know I know your name. I'll figure you out."

I shook my head. "There's nothing to figure out."

"We'll see."

I pressed my elbows into the hard wood of the desk, feeling the grain of the wood leave its imprints on my skin. I tried to focus on the lesson but it was hopeless. I had to watch my back.

xxx

"Are you gonna go to Hogsmeade?" Leah asked me later that week as we lounged in the library, lazily flicking through our textbooks.

"What's a Hogsmeade?" I replied with a frown.

She giggled. "The village. We can go shopping or whatever. Stock up on supplies. Hoard some Honeydukes. Post some post. And then binge drink at the Three Broomsticks."

I sat up. "You have my attention."

"With what? The shopping or the drinking?"

"Yes."

She giggled again. "It's next Saturday. I can give you a tour."

"That sounds nice," I told her.

"Good. That's a plan then."

We settled back into our studies.

"What have you got for question seven?" Leah asked me, leaving over to peek and my notes.

"8, 7, 1."

She scribbled that onto her own parchment. "Thanks."

"Varsågod," I replied, waving my hand.****

For a few minutes everything was silent except for the rustling of old pages. I yawned, arching my back like a cat to try to stay awake.

"Hullo," said a bushy-haired Weasley, piling some books in the table beside us. I couldn't remember her name.

"Er, hi," Leah said.

The Weasley smiled politely at her. "Hi Leah."

She turned towards me.

"What?" I said, rather rudely, before internally cursing myself.

"My cousins say you're interesting. And being Gryffindors they aren't interested in much, so that must mean you're actually _really_ interesting."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean you came in here all high-and-mighty and aloof, telling off the professors and nearly killing people, and now suddenly you're apologizing? It's - interesting. Strange."

"I realized the error of my ways," I replied with a touch of sarcasm.

"It's just that, well, of course you realized you were wrong. Otherwise you wouldn't apologize. What's interesting is the ease with which you did it."

"How is that interesting?" I asked her. "If I realized I was wrong of course I would apologize."

"Not everyone does. Some people just double down and make everything worse. I thought you were that type."

"You thought wrong."

"I'm almost never wrong."

"It's true," Leah interjected. "Rose is almost never wrong."

I frowned, thinking. "It has to happen sometimes."

"Not often."

I shook my head. "It doesn't really matter."

"I guess not. But you're still interesting."

I shrugged. "If you say so."

For a few minutes, the three of us sat in silence, studying. Regardless of the fact that I was in a completely different country surrounded by people who were unlike anyone I'd ever known, I felt comfortable. This - sitting in a cold and ancient library, reading old books and finishing Arithmancy work - was familiar. This library had the same smell of old parchment and fresh ink, the same wrinkling sounds echoed through the bookshelves as nervous young students delicately turned the pages of school books. Someone coughed.

"You going to Hogsmeade on Saturday Rose?" Leah asked a few minutes later.

"Probably. Haven't made up my mind yet. On the one hand, I want more Drooble's. But on the other hand, I don't want to walk there."

Leah snorted. "You should get out more."

"Not really my thing," Rose said with a shrug.

I watched the exchange with interest. I still couldn't quite understand the interpersonal dynamics of this place; it was so different from everything I'd ever known. I could still remember my first year at Durmstrang like it was yesterday. At first I had tried to make friends, and the other people in my year had tried too. But the pressure was so great and the culture was so intense that it only took a couple months for us to realize that building and maintaining friendships would be impossible. I thought that was normal, that all schools were like that.

There were no slackers at Durmstrang. When your marks started falling, you were kicked out. The people who spent any time at all being social were gone by the second year. I learned quickly that anything less than perfection was unacceptable. This was one lesson that had been overlooked at Hogwarts, and I was afraid the consequences would be severe.


	4. The First Attack

Saturday morning was chaotic. I had never really seen primping on the level that Ava and Siobhan achieved in the almost two hours before they left for Hogsmeade. Leah and I hid behind the drapes on her bed while Ava went on a miniature rampage trying to find her shoes.

"What's the problem, exactly?" I whispered to Leah.

She blinked blearily. "Erm, Siobhan is going out with her boyfriend, and Ava is going out with some of the other members of the Quidditch team, which she's panicking about because she's got a _thing_ for Finn."

"How do you know all this?" I asked in confusion.

"I listen," Leah said, raising her brows. "You should try it."

"I've tried it," I insisted. "I'm just not good at it."

"Well listening is just like any other skill, you have to practice it, _learn_ it."

"Vad som helst."*

Leah giggled. Eventually Ava and Siobhan ran out of the door, slamming it behind them.

"Alright, it's safe now," Leah proclaimed, throwing open the drapes and bouncing off the bed. "Get dressed."

"In what?"

"I dunno. Whatever you want, I guess. Trousers, a fluffy skirt, stilettos."

I snorted. "No thanks."

"Trainers then."

"What are _trainers_?"

Leah tossed me my pair of canvas shoes. "Those."

"Okej då," I said to myself.**

It took the two of us less than half the time to get ready than it had taken Ava and Siobhan.

"I've figured out why I like you," Leah told me as we headed down the staircase.

"Because I apologized?"

"Well, yes, but also because you're low maintenance, like me. Those two are - not."

"Ah. Okay."

"Anyway," Leah continued. "I thought we could go to Honeydukes first, and then whatever you wanna do, and finish up at the Three Broomsticks."

"What's that?"

"The pub. Does that plan sound good to you?"

"Jag antar."

"What?"

"I guess, if that's what you want to do."

"I mean, if you want to do something else first -" Leah said hastily.

"No, no I'm sure this will be lots of fun. You know the town much better than I do. You'd know the best way to spend the day."

"If you're sure."

We trudged down to the village, leaving dewy footprints in the wet grass alongside the trail. The village was a short, fifteen minute walk from the school gates, something I hadn't realized during the carriage ride up to the school at the beginning of term. The shops lining the cobblestoned streets were small and quaint, filled with students, and overwhelmingly noisy.

Leah smiled and waved at the people we passed.

"Smile," she whispered to me as we pushed part a group of excitable third years. "You look angry."

I forced my lips upward.

"Not like that," she protested. "You look maniacal."

I scowled at her and she laughed. "Come on, I've changed my mind. I want a Butterbeer before the shopping."

She led me through a small crowd of people huddled under an awning and into a brightly lit and cheery pub. It was packed with furniture made of honey-coloured wood with candle sconces dotted along the walls so frequently the whole room seemed to glow. Students, teachers, and town residents filled nearly every seat at the tables and the bar, laughing and drinking and enjoying themselves.

We sat down at a table with a couple other seventh years. Leah pushed me into a chair between Potter and a Ravenclaw named Aero Basil and across from his twin sister Amandine before dropping into the chair next to Amandine.

"Enjoying Hogsmeade?" Potter asked us casually.

"We just got here," Leah replied. "I've not gotten to show our new girl around yet."

I looked around, wondering where I could get a drink.

"Someone will bring you something, don't worry," Potter told me when he noticed this.

I frowned. "I don't see any waitresses."

"That's not what I meant," Potter said with a grin.

Sure enough, a couple of Hufflepuff fifth years appeared at my elbow less than a minute later, armed with a tray full of drinks.

"We weren't sure what you wanted, so we just got everything," one of them said breathlessly.

I tried not to look disturbed. "Thank you."

"I'll take that Firewhiskey, if you don't want it," Amandine said eagerly.

"You can have it," I said, passing it to her. "Not enough flavour for me."

She grinned and took a long slurp.

"Do - do you maybe want the Butterbeer then? Or the, erm, Ogden's? Or -"

I cut off the stuttering boy with a smile. "Just the Butterbeer for me right now, thank you. It's a bit early to be getting drunk."

He handed it to me reverently. Leah and I exchanged an amused glance as the boys slowly and regretfully backed away. A bit of drink slopped over the side of their tray, but they didn't notice.

"Interesting," Aero said thoughtfully.

"What?" I asked, arching my brow.

"The effect you have on people. Affecting some more than others. Affecting some not at all. It's interesting."

"Yeah, I've noticed that too, with my Aunt Fleur," Potter put in. "Some people trip over themselves just to get within earshot of her, but others, like myself, don't seem to be as easily swayed."

"People used to say it was up to the strength of a man's character," I said. "A weak man will become so entranced by a veela that he becomes nearly unable to function unless working to please her. A strong man can resist more quickly and easily."

"Is that true?" Leah asked, curious.

I shrugged. "Personally, I think it has more to do with the person in question being at peace with themself and their relationships. A man who is confident either in his being single or committed to another is more likely to be able to resist, while a man who is unsure of himself and his relationships is more susceptible to my charms."

"Interesting," Aero said, studying me. "Do you have this same effect on women?"

"Depends which way they swing," I replied casually, not looking at Leah.

"And can you make yourself more or less enticing?"

I snorted. "Absolutely. If I wanted the affections of every man in here, I could have that easily."

"How?"

I smirked. "A lady can't reveal all her secrets."

Potter and Leah chuckled at that. I took a sip of my drink and noticed a disturbance near the door. Two tall men had pushed their way into the pub past a cluster of sixth years, knocking a few to the ground in the process. The students took one look at the men and decided not to protest.

The men took seats at the bar and waggled their fingers at the woman who stood pouring drinks behind it. They were dressed all in black, with thick, fur-lined cloaks and dragon leather boots and gloves. Neither bothered to keep their hood up. I averted my gaze, but kept watch from the corner of my eye, pretending to be fascinated in Potter's story about his aunt's brief foray into public speaking. They looked around the pub with suspicion and without shame. I knew they had to have seen me, but they made no indication of this.

I nudged James as he finished speaking. He looked at me, startled.

"When I stand up, you need to find a way to get everyone out of the pub," I hissed under my breath. "Especially the younger ones. Do you understand?"

"What are you planning?" he asked, his nose wrinkling.

" _I'm_ not planning anything," I replied. "It's the men at the bar."

His expression turned worried as he looked at them. "Okay."

The brawnier of the two men finished his drink and began to reach into his cloak, as though getting out some Galleons to pay.

With a flick of my wrist, my wand slid from my sleeve to my hand and I jumped to my feet, my chair scraping against the wooden floor, and pointed my weapon at the men. I was not fast enough. They both had wands out already, and we stood facing each other and prepared for a fight.

There were a few shrieks and gasps as the other students realized what was happening. The previously rambunctious pub turned silent almost at once.

"Hallå," I said casually, as though I threatened to duel angry Swedish men in crowded pubs every day. "How are the two of you today?"

Mårdh, the older and bulkier of the two, replied just as casually. "Just fine, thank you. But we're not here for pleasantries."

"No?" I feigned innocence. "Then why have you come all this way?"

"For you," Eilhard said, his mouth curling into a sneer. He was taller and gawkier than Mårdh, and only a year older than I.

"Trouble with that is I don't plan on going back to the pit I've only just climbed out of."

Eilhard rolled his eyes and prepared to advance. The younger kids squealed and the older ones held their breath. I didn't turn my wand away from Mårdh.

"Is this what you are reduced to Mårdh?" I asked, laughing meanly. "Relying on Eilhard here, when we both know he isn't up to any task of this magnitude?"

Mårdh put his hand on Eilhard's shoulder as the boy growled deep in his throat. "Well, this is why we need to you to come back Asta. We're becoming desperate."

I only smiled. "Good."

"Enough of this," Eilhard said impatiently. There was a hard glint in his eye. "We need to take her."

I shook my head. "And how do you plan on doing that, liten blomma?"***

He twitched forward again, and Mårdh's grip on him tightened perceptively. I giggled. Mårdh opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I struck.

I moved my wand in an upward stroke, disarming Eilhard and sending him stumbling back. On the downstroke, I destroyed his wand as it flew through the air, leaving him without possibility of defense, and with a final flick, thick ropes appeared and wrapped around him tightly. I did this all in a second, so fast Mårdh didn't register the attack until it was over. His eyes widened and his cheeks puffed up, giving him the appearance of a scared fish.

The shock diminished quickly. He roared. His wand flashed through the air, not at me but at the ceiling. The rafters above us cracked and broke, and their pieces blocked the exit that students were scrambling for. Many of them screamed again, finding themselves trapped.

I gritted my teeth and lifted my wrong hand. Keeping my wand on Mårdh, I moved the tables through the air quickly, forming two barricades - one on either side of Mårdh and I, shielding the students from too much further harm. Mårdh smirked.

"Seems we know your soft spot now."

"Never," I answered him, unflinching.

He struck out at me, and I blocked, but the force of the blow sent me reeling backwards. I recovered just in time to see a set of kitchen knives soar out of their block at my head. I pointed my wand at them, and they turned into paper airplanes with deadly points that wheeled about in the air and flew back at Mårdh. He waved them aside without thought and threw another curse with a slash of his wand.

Again, I kept my wand trained on him and used my free hand to throw a chair in front of the curse. It was blasted into pieces. I cast my own curse immediately and he didn't block - simply dodged to the side and conjured a huge rope of fire that whipped over the heads of the civilians in the pub.

I leaped forward with a shriek, sending waves of water coursing from my wand, dousing the rope and the rest of the pub. Mårdh used this moment of my distraction to his advantage.

The Cruciatus Curse was nothing new to me, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. My knees buckled and my vision went black. All I knew was pain. It was fierce and intense, burning me up from the inside out, like my every bone was on fire. I breathed, trying to ground myself, to find something to hold onto until the pain stopped. I gulped at the air like a drowning man. I could feel grit and wood grain beneath my hands. I focused on this. I remembered how the floor of the pub had looked, held that picture in my mind. My vision returned slowly, and though the pain did not lessen I found myself managing it.

I could not lift my wand, so I reached out, just barely, with my free hand, as though pleading for mercy. The blow was weak, but Mårdh was not expecting it and he broke the curse, falling back a step.

I forced myself to get back onto my feet, even though I was still gripped by the ghost of pain. Mårdh shot another curse at me and I projected a shield in front of myself just in time.

Mårdh sent a volley of curses at me. They slammed against my shield, and in my weakened state I found myself forced backwards until my back slammed into the wall. My shield charm weakened and cracked but did not break. I pretended to be weaker and more drained than I was, gripping my wand in both hands and turning my face away as though I expected to be struck at any moment. Mårdh fell for this and advanced, grinning.

I waited until he was within arms reach and then between curses I dissolved my shield and grabbed the front of his robes, kissing him deeply. A veela kiss was powerful, more powerful than many really cared to admit - especially when I put the full force of my magic behind it. Mårdh's knees buckled the way mine had under the Cruciatus Curse, and his eyes went wide and empty. He stayed on his feet only because I was holding him up. When I broke the kiss, he collapsed to the floor.

I didn't bother with a disarming charm this time, simply snatched his wand out of his hand. He pulled himself back onto his feet, glaring at me. I smiled back and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. His jaw clenched.

"It was stupid of you to come here Mårdh," I said softly. "Remember, I know all your secrets."

For once real fear flashed in his eyes.

"You are to tell everyone that you didn't find me. That you think I went back to Africa or to Brazil, in search of knowledge I hadn't yet mastered. And if I see another of the underlings, I will pay that pretty little girl of your's a visit. How old is she now? Nine? And safely hidden away, free from all schemes and -" I paused here, significantly. "Disasters."

"You wouldn't," he said, his lip curling. But his eyes were gripped with terror.

"You don't know what I would do," I snapped. "And for that reason, you'd better stay away."

Mårdh's nostrils flared with anger, but he nodded his acquiescence.

"Good," I said. "Now take Eilhard and go."

He strode over to his companion, still tied up on the floor and thrashing like a dead fish. "I can't Disapparate without my wand."

"Hmm," I made a show of considering this problem. "I'll give it back to you on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you leave with no further discussion."

He gave me a curt nod and I passed over the wand. He grabbed the wand in one hand and Eilhard in the other, and with a crack, the two of them disappeared.

Slowly the students poked their heads over the tables and crawled out from under their chairs. They gripped their friend's hands and watched me watch them, fear radiating out from them. I swallowed hard.

"Asta?" I heard Leah say, cautiously.

I pulled away from her and pushed my way through the wreckage and out into the snow. The villagers had only just begun to gather around the door, shouting to the people inside. I shoved them aside, moving quickly back up to the castle.

"Asta, wait!" Leah's voice called above the cacophony of the crowd.

I felt a strong hand grab my arm by my elbow and I lashed out. Fire rushed out of my wand, spreading out in a semicircle around me as I spun in place, looking for the person who grabbed me. Potter backed away, hands in the air.

The flames died and I stepped back. "Stay away from me."

"But -"

"Stay away!" I yelled. Sparks flew from the tip of my wand.

Leah took a step forward. "Asta, we want to help you. What's going on?"

"It doesn't matter! This doesn't concern you Leah! Just _stay away_! For your own good."

"No, Asta, you need help," she replied, still moving forward.

"No I _don't_. I'm fine."

"Asta, you're not fine," Potter interjected. "Let us help you, please."

"No!" I shouted. "I don't need help! Now stay away from me, _please_. I don't want to hurt you."

My voice broke and I turned away from them and back up towards the castle.

Professor Longbottom met me in the Entrance Hall and brought me back up to the Headmistress's office. Two other men were waiting there for me, arms crossed and backs ramrod straight.

"Take a seat," the smaller man said.

As no one else was sitting, I refused, choosing instead to stand and grip the back of the chair in my hands. The man's brow creased, but it didn't seem to be with anger. There were a few moments of silence before the second man spoke with a heavy Irish accent

"Miss Eld," he said. "Me name is Finnegan. I am an Auror with the Ministry of Magic. This here is my associate, Mr Nithercott. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

I nodded. "Of course."

"Who were those men in the village?" Nithercott asked.

"Egonia Mårdh and Hilmar Eilhard."

"Why were they here?"

"For me."

"Why do they want you?"

This made me pause. I didn't yet know the extent to which I could trust these men. They might be fighting against my old cause, but that didn't mean that they were the Good Guys, so to speak.

"I know a lot of things," I said cautiously. "They want information."

"What sort of things do you know?" pressed Nithercott.

"And how do they know that you know these things?" Finnegan asked.

I tugged at the sleeve of my robe. "We used to be colleagues, of a sort."

"But they don't know everything you know?" Nithercott asked, frowning.

I smiled at this. "Like I always say, a lady's got to have some secrets."

"Were those men members of the Mördaren Manifest?" interrupted Finnegan.

I snorted. "No."

Both the teachers and the Aurors in the room frowned, obviously confused.

I raised my eyebrows. "They follow the Mördaren Manifest. They are members of Hawksna."

"What's the difference?" asked Finnegan, his nose wrinkling.

"Mördaren Manifest translates to the Assassin's Manifesto. It is a manifesto only, a document or set of rules for those who follow it. People who follow Mördaren Manifest are members of Hawksna, which is the group of people."

"Well," Nithercott said, straightening the front of his robes. "You've now told us more than the entire Swedish government over the past six years."

I snorted. "I'm not surprised."

Finnegan leaned forward, bracing his hands on the desk between us. "What can you tell us about Hawksna and the Mördaren Manifest?"

I pursed my lips. "I _could_ tell you nearly everything. But as of right now I'm not sure I want to."

I could see anger and confusion appear behind the eyes of the Aurors. The two professors looked upset.

"And why is that?" Nithercott said softly.

"I have a lot of information," I said. "Very sensitive information. And I'm not going to pass it along to just anyone. I need to make sure that we are on the same side. I need to be sure that we are in agreement about more than just the fact that the Mördaren Manifest is bad, and Hawksna is evil."

"Who would you share this information with?"

"Someone I know is safe."

"How can we prove to you that we are safe?"

I chewed on my lower lip, thinking. "Why do you stand against Hawksna?"

"Because their beliefs are antithetical to ours."

"And what are your beliefs?"

"Freedom of thought and action - as long as your words and actions do not cause direct harm to others."

"What are your thoughts on Muggles?"

"Live and let live," Finnegan broke in. "Don't interfere with their world and politics and focus only on our own lives and our own people."

I nodded. "And international relations?"

"Help those who ask for help, but otherwise stay out of the way," Nithercott said.

I sat in the seat Finnegan had indicated when I first walked into the room. "Then I will help you. But I must insist that you leave, professors. Like I said, this information is highly sensitive, and the fewer who know it, the better."

Finnegan nodded at the professors and they left, looking troubled. Nithercott leaned back against the desk and folded his arms. Finnegan frowned at me concernedly. I took a deep breath and prepared to tell them everything.

 _*"Whatever."_

 _**"Okay then," I said to myself._

 _***I shook my head. "And how do you plan on doing that, little flower?"_


End file.
